


Discretion

by Solstarin



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 11:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17848613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solstarin/pseuds/Solstarin
Summary: When they get hurt in odd/embarrassing ways, the company turns to you for help because of your discretion and they know you won’t judge them.





	Discretion

**Author's Note:**

> From Tale Teller's 2019 Plot Bunny challenge! Find her at @sdavis09 on tumblr. 
> 
> Fili x Reader if you would like, it's pretty open-ended. This had very little editing, so apologies for any mistakes! :)

“Promise you won’t tell?” **  
**

Y/N suppressed a sigh as she pulled Kíli’s sleeve down, over the neatly-wrapped bandages on his forearms. She offered a gentle smile to counter the worried gaze that kept flitting over her face. 

“Kíli. Have I ever _told_?” 

He chewed on his lip. “No.” 

She gripped his hand for a moment in an effort to calm his nerves. “And I won’t start now. Maybe ask your wife to use something a little softer than old fish-rope, next time, though, hm?”

The blush that he’d come into her clinic with returned with a vengeance, and he ducked his head. “I will.”

She stepped back to allow him the space to stand from the stool she’d put him on. “Come back tomorrow and I’ll redress it. That salve should all but fix it overnight, so long as it stays put. I’ll be here all day.” 

“Alright. Thank you, Y/N.” He took her hand for a moment and spoke genuinely before turning to leave.

She watched him go and shot him another smile as he glanced back at her and shut her front door. Once she was alone, she took down his name in her logbook with a sigh. Even though the newly refurbished Erebor had plenty of healers to spare, she could always count on finding one of the Original Company lingering at her doorway -- either at her clinic or her quarters, it didn’t seem to matter -- at all hours. She had plenty of secrets to go around, but they all knew very well that she was tight-lipped. 

Unfortunately, boys will be boys, and her boys were no exception. (Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Bilbo, ever the picture of politeness, always behaved himself.) There wasn’t a week gone by that she didn’t have to deflect one of the bloody dwarves trying to weasel information out of her about any of the others’ visits. Despite the fact they had all --Thorin included, but she’d _never_ admit that-- come to her with their more _delicate_ matters, none of them seemed to possess any respect of privacy. When one travels with a group for as long as they had, she supposed, in the conditions they had, boundaries became a little blurry.

They had treated her with more delicacy through the Quest, though that was probably because of her prized status as female. Despite being only half-dwarrow, she was still considered a treasure, and they had behaved as such. Her sex was also what had almost kept her from joining at all, but thankfully Oín had been able to convince Thorin to take her along as insurance. He wasn’t as young as he once was, and Mahal knew what could happen to any of them, so it was better to have another capable healer along, just in case.

She did prove useful, and ended up becoming their go-to for most things. In their own time, each had learned that she never judged them for their mishaps, no matter how strange they seemed. She’d seen plenty of accidents-- once, Kíli had dared Bofur to do as many push-ups as he could on one hand, with both of Dwalin’s axes stacked on his back. He got through a surprisingly number, but had dislocated his shoulder on the last one. He’d refused to admit to any pain after she’d reset it, but she noticed how strained he looked after a full day of hauling his pack over his shoulders. After everyone else had fallen asleep, she’d sat with him, quietly, and massaged a generous amount numbing salve into the muscles. They’d all had similar situations. 

She’d stitched fingers, packed down bandages so they’d be inconspicuous under clothing, pulled out splinters from all manner of places, medicated anxieties, insomnia, and odd bruises. She never asked what happened, and only offered a gentle smile and advice to speed up their healing, whether or not they told. 

They all thanked her, too, in their own way. Ori made her a whole new pair of mittens when her old ones began to wear too far to be of use, Dori picked and dried any tea-worthy leaves he could find for her, Bofur made sure she always had a scarf if the wind picked up, and the princes regularly lifted items from her pack to make her journey lighter. Dwalin made sure her modest sword was always razor-sharp. Bombur let her have first pick of whatever they’d managed to scrounge up for meals. Thorin had called her _khazush_  once.

After the Battle to reclaim the Mountain, absolutely no one in the Company would suffer any other healers seeing to the barely-alive Thorin, or his nephews, beyond those assistants she’d chosen personally. Since then, she’d been officially named as the Royal Physician, alongside an aging Oín, but the Durin line was healthy, now. The boys were young and resilient, and only Thorin presented a slight limp where his foot had been pierced through. Most of her time was spent tending to the other twelve dwarves, (and, again, Bilbo, but she had nothing poor to say on his part), and offering advice to the regrowing city of Dale. 

  
Today, she recalled as her gaze traveled over her desk to land on her shopping list, was Sunday, and the colorful market would be taking place in the Hall of Kings. At some point, she should make it down there -- there were a few supplies to gather for the tinctures that needed making. She always enjoyed the markets-- it was wonderful to see such lively activity in a space that seemed so hollow and gloomy. 

Her trip was long, as she chatted with at least a dozen vendors, but was otherwise relatively uneventful. Her mind wandered away from her on the trip back, as it usually did, and her feet took her back to her office on their own accord. She only came back to herself when a presence beside her halted her, and suddenly, there was a sweet smell under her nose. She started, drawing back as a golden tart came into focus. Just beyond it was an equally golden moustache, framing a wily smile. 

“I swiped two of tonight’s desserts,” Fíli said conspiratorially. “Thought you might appreciate one.” 

She reached for the tart he was offering, thanking him with a smile. “You’re very considerate, Fíli.”

“Ah-ah.” he pulled back out of her reach, quirking a brow. “I’m afraid today’s raid has come at a price.” 

Y/N frowned, and waited, becoming increasingly suspicious as his grin turned more mischievous.

Sure enough, he continued, “I know Kíli saw you this morning, but he brushed me off so fast I was nearly blown backwards. You’ll get a tart if you tell me why.” 

She narrowed her eyes and pushed open the door to her clinic.

“Fíli, you sly devil.” 

His devious grin widened. “Getting cold,” he sang, following her to keep the treat in her sights.

She turned up her nose and set her basket down on a workspace. “You know I won’t tell you. Unless you want me to spill all of your secrets to him.” 

“Ah, but, I don’t have any secrets.” He propped his hip against her table as she arranged her fresh ingredients. “I’m an open book. All I’ve come to you for are splinters and stubbed toes.” 

Y/N picked up the notebook with today’s recipes and turned to her shelving to gather the last couple items, pulling jars down as she spoke. “Do I need to remind you of the first time you came to me with more than just your _toe_ stubbed? Or when you nearly severed your thumb trying to impress that dam when we were passing through Bree?”

This drew a hot blush to not only his cheeks, but all the way up his ears and down his throat. He sputtered, “ah- um, _well_ , that’s -- _that_ was--” and descended into coughs.

Y/N chuckled as she set her bottled down and selected one set to the side, quickly securing a note to the neck. She turned to Fíli, snatched the tart from his hand before he could stop her, and replaced it with the large vial.

“Here. Take this to Balin, it’s for Bard when he visits next. There are ingredients on the note, he can come see me if he has ny questions.“ She tugged on one of his mustache braids and leveled him with a playful glare as he schooled his breath. “Now, go on.” 

For the second time that day, a Durin was scurrying out of her clinic with a blush. Again, she sighed as the door closed, and sank into a chair. This time, though, a fond laugh bubbled in her chest as she bit into Fíli’s pastry. Even if they could be ridiculous, at least they gave her life color.

Indeed, boys would be boys, but they were _her_ boys.

\-----

khazush: sister  



End file.
